


Feeling and Flying

by BobbySinger (wylf_storm)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Episode Coda: s8e22, Fluff, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wings, a lot of fluff, idk you could probably call it an episode coda, in which Cas never fell and is still an angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wylf_storm/pseuds/BobbySinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the end of 8X22 and 8X23 (So Cas never met Metatron and thus never fell)<br/>Castiel paces the bunker nervously, which annoys him a little. He, Castiel, the angel of Thursday, nervous over a human?</p><p>He know exactly why, too. The same reason he went out and got his apology gifts for Dean – but Cas stoically ignores all the signs. That’s one emotion that he has had no trouble with through all of his many years… so why is it surfacing now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling and Flying

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, please enjoy (I've had this idea stewing for a while and I finally got it off the back burner and onto a site)

Castiel is very happy with his haul from the store, especially since the kid at the cash register managed to find some pie for him after he had pulled him across the counter.

He isn’t quite sure how to present it to Dean though. He doesn’t want to do it in person, because he knows that Dean will probably ignore him, or give the stuff to Sam to take care of.

Castiel paces the bunker nervously, which annoys him a little. He, Castiel, the angel of Thursday, nervous over a _human?_

He know exactly why, too. The same reason he went out and got his apology gifts for Dean – but Cas stoically ignores all the signs. That’s one emotion that he has had no trouble with through all of his many years… _so why is it surfacing now?_

Shaking his head to clear it, Cas walks purposefully into Dean’s room and starts taking what he has bought out of the plastic bag it came in: A six-pack of beer, several rolls of toilet paper, multiple copies of Busty Asian Beauties, and of course, the pie. Cas got an entire apple one, just to be safe.

He lays them out next to each other on the end of the bed, then stops to take a look around Dean’s room. It’s the first time he has actually been in the other man’s space, and Castiel is intrigued by the things around the room: the guns and knives on the wall, the collection of vinyl records stacked neatly in a tray, and the small framed picture of Mary Winchester on the desk. Cas smiles sadly at this last one, and glances at the items on the bed; It just feels like there should be something else…

The angel moves over to the desk and tears the top sheet off the writing pad there and picks up a pen. It’s the first time Cas has actually had to write anything down, as angels would generally fly from place to place and speak to each other, but this isn’t the first thing out of the ordinary that Castiel has done for the Winchesters.

When he’s finished he retreats back to the lounge area of the bunker, selects a book of lore and balances himself on the edge of the couch to read it while he continues to heal the bullet hole in his stomach. His body isn’t quite as fast at healing as it used to be, but the wound isn’t as raw or deep as it was the day before.

 

It’s progress, and Cas is happy with it.

*********

A few hours later, Sam and Dean arrive back from their mission, and Cas hasn’t moved an inch from off the couch. He’s onto his third book now, and looks up from the pages briefly to greet the two hunters.

“Hello Dean, Sam.”

“Hey Cas.” Sam responds, but Dean doesn’t say anything. He dumps his bag by the table and goes off into the showers without a word.

Castiel dogears his page but smooths it out again when he notices Sam wince, and reaches for a stray bookmark on the coffee table instead.

“How did it go?” He asks politely.

Sam sighs, and passes a hand over his face. “We got the bits of Abaddon  from where we left them, put most of her back together and tied her up and everything, but she still managed to escape somehow… Dean’s pissy about it. There are other demons we can use though, but we just have to find them first.”

“The knight of Hell is loose?” Cas makes to stand up but Sam stops him.

“Woah, Cas, don’t worry about it. From what she said to us, she’s not too fussed on having Crowley in charge and he’s her main concern.”

Cas nods slowly and sits down again, just as Dean emerges from the shower, his hair damp and mussed and with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Cas quickly looks away, but not before Dean sees him, and frowns a little before entering his room and shutting the door firmly.

“So…” Sam says awkwardly, “How’re your guts?”

It takes the angel a second to figure out what Sam is talking about. “Oh, the wound is, uh, it’s fine. It’s nearly properly healed over. Should only take another hour or two.” Cas looks at Sam critically, taking in the dark shadows under his watery eyes, and the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth.

“You should rest, Sam.”

“He’s going to, aren’t you Sammy?” Dean says, poking his head out of his room. “After I talk to you. Alone.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, but shrugs and goes into Dean’s room.

Cas is worried now. What if Dean didn’t like his presents? What if he’s telling Sam that he thinks Cas should leave? The angel closes his eyes to calm himself, then picks up his book again.

 

Even if they are talking about him, he doesn’t want to listen in. He’ll take anything they have to say to him from them directly. He’s not going to run this time.

*********

As soon as Dean closes the door behind Sam, he points wordlessly at the bed, or more, the things on it.

Sam has a little trouble containing his laughter, but manages to keep a relatively straight face as he asks “This is what you want to talk about?”

Dean just spreads his hands and looks confused.

Sam steps closer to the bed to look at what Cas has left on there. He chuckles when he sees the porn and toilet paper, but quiets down at the note left on top of the pie.

 

**_Dean,_ **

**_I’m sorry for not trusting you, and for leaving. I didn’t understand what I was meant to do with the tablet, but I knew that I had to protect it. Even from myself. I’m sorry that I let you down. I got you the things on your bed because I knew you liked them, and you deserve to be happy._ **

 

It ends rather abruptly in an Enochian sigil that neither brother recognizes.

“Cas went out and got you all this, just to say sorry?” Sam’s eyebrows are raised so high they are in danger of being swallowed by the rest of his hair.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean responds, rubbing the back of his head. “But look at the writing. Whose writing does that look like?”

Sam frowns a little at the paper. He knows there is something very familiar about this hand…

“Oh my god. This is Dad’s handwriting!” Sam scrutinizes Dean. “But Cas wrote this…? I’m guessing the symbol is his name… How is that even possible?”

Sam watches as Dean’s eyes cloud over a little, and he can tell that his brother isn’t fully with him as Dean’s memory skips back a year to a shady motel room.

_He is sitting on the edge of one bed and rifling through his bag while Cas thumbs through John’s journal on the end of the other. Neither one has said anything in a while._

_“Your father had beautiful handwriting,” Cas announces suddenly, and Dean doesn’t quite know what to do with that information._

_“Yeah, I guess he did…”_

Dean twitches a little as he regains focus and Sam waits for an answer.

“He was reading Dad’s journal one day, and said how much he liked it. I guess it was some of the only handwriting he’s actually seen.”

“Huh.” Sam huffs his breath out, and has to repress a smile. He’s never seen Dean so confused about a present like this. But then, this isn’t an ordinary present, Sam reasons with himself. He’d pretended not to notice the glances the two had been stealing at each other for the past two years or so, but even for Sam, the tension between Angel and man with them not on speaking terms is becoming unbearable.

“So what are you gonna do?”

Dean frowns. “What do you mean?”

“With this. Cas. What are you gonna say to him?”

“Nothing. I don’t have to say anything.” Sam can see Dean shutting himself in, cutting off his feelings.

“Oh nuh-uh. You have to tell him that you forgive him! You do, don’t you?” Sam stares directly at Dean, all seriousness on his face.

Dean shuffles around a little. “Yeah…” He finally admits. “But what do I do with this? He didn’t have to go get it all.”

Sam feels a small smile spread across his face, and he nonchalantly places the note back down on the pie.

“Did you know, that some birds give gifts of food as a sign of courtship?”

“What the hell, Sam? I don’t- oh.” Sam’s smile grows as he watches comprehension dawn on Dean’s face. Sam puts his hands on each of Dean’s shoulders and looks at him sternly. “And now, as birdy number two, what are you going to do about it?”

Dean looks down, a blush rising in his cheeks. “I thought he knew already… You know, with the Angel tablet… I said some stuff to him…”

“Wow Dean,” Sam steps away from him again. “I haven’t seen you this smitten since Rhonda Hurley!” Dean’s head snaps up at this and he pushes Sam’s shoulder.

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam responds, but there is no force behind the word. “Now go make up with your angel. I’ll be in my room with music playing loudly in my headphones.” He gives Dean a significant look, and is rewarded with another punch to his shoulder.

“Fuck you, man.” Dean opens the door and shoves Sam out of his room roughly but with a smile. Cas puts his book down at the disturbance.

“Not me, fuck Cas!” Sam crows, and runs down the hallway as Dean’s jaw drops, and Cas cocks his head in confusion. “I expect to be ringbearer at your wedding!” Sam yells from the safety of his room, then slams the door shut, cackling.

Cas looks at Dean, who is blushing madly and muttering curses under his breath. He ducks back into his room, and Cas hears the beer bottles clinking together, and the rustle of plastic packaging as Dean moves Cas’s presents. The angel waits patiently, as Dean makes his way over to the couch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets, then sits himself down on the coffee table.

“Hey Cas, I uh… I wanted to talk to you.” Dean waits for Cas to say something, but he just keeps staring straight at Dean, and so the hunter ploughs on before he gets lost in the azure depth of Cas’s eyes.

 “I uh- I’ve been a bit of a dick to you lately. And- um… I forgive you Cas. Thank you, I loved it. Your present.”  Dean twists his hands nervously in his lap, and looks down at them. He always was useless at apologies.

It comes as a surprise when another hand reaches out and covers Dean’s, stilling his fingers. Dean looks up finally, and Cas is no longer on the couch, but crouching in the small space between it and Dean on the coffee table, his gaze fixed firmly on Dean’s.

“Thank you, Dean. You don’t need to apologize to me. You had reason enough to be upset.”

“No, Cas, but that doesn’t make it okay for me to be a douche to you! You’ve always been there for me…” Dean twists his hand so that his fingers link with Cas’s. “You remember when you had the angel tablet, and we were- you know?” He asks tentatively.

Castiel’s eyes squeeze closed briefly, and he looks a little pained. “I remember… I almost killed you.”

“But you didn’t. You couldn’t do it.” Dean’s voice is firm, and he ploughs on before he loses his nerve. “Do you remember what I said to you, Cas? Do you remember what I told you?” Dean leans forward, and there is an urgency in his voice as he says this. His hand squeezes Cas’s a little tighter.

“I remember, Dean. You… you said you needed me.” Cas says quietly, and glances down for a second as if to make sure they are still connected in some way, but Dean’s face fills his vision as he leans closer still, and their faces are only inches apart.

“I do, Cas. I need you.”

“I _want_ you,” Castiel almost growls it, and moves forward so that they are finally kissing, and it feels so _right_ to him, like something that he had been missing for the last few millennia has finally dropped into place. Cas pushes his tongue against Dean’s lips, and Dean opens to him, letting Cas sweep through his mouth thoroughly and fully.

Castiel hums with pleasure as he feels Dean’s hand cup the back of his head and pull gently at his hair so that they are standing, their bodies pressing close. He rocks his hips forward against Dean, and their mouths break apart as Dean gasps raggedly.

“Bedroom.” Is all the hunter manages before reattaching his lips to the angel’s skin.

Cas arches his neck as Dean bites down gently, nibbling and marking the skin under his ear. Dean feels his feet lose contact with the floor as Cas grabs the back of his thighs and hitches him up around his hips. Dean is all for this new development, and wraps his legs around the angel.

Not wanting to startle Dean by ‘zapping’ to his room, Castiel leaves his arms under Dean’s thighs to hold him in place, but finds it harder than expected to walk to Dean’s room with Dean relentlessly kissing his neck and rocking his hips up into him. Cas barely makes the last few metres as Dean unbuttons his shirt and loosens his tie to latch onto his collarbones.

They drop onto the mattress in a heap, Cas finally shedding his trench coat, shirt and tie. He hears Dean breathe out quietly, and a smile plays around the corners of his mouth.

“You like this?” He asks, spreading his arms.

Dean’s eyebrow twitches suggestively, an he opens his mouth to reply, but Cas presses a finger to his lips and holds him with a look. “Don’t speak.” He commands.

Even with only one finger pressed against Dean’s lips, Cas feels the shiver that runs through the hunter’s body. It sparks a sensation in him, and he feels a thrum in the abdomen of his vessel.

“Arms,” Castiel instructs, and Dean raises his arms obediently, letting Cas slide his Henley off.

“Good,” Cas murmurs in praise, and kisses Dean again as a reward, his fingers trailing slowly down Dean’s sides. When he reaches the waistband of Dean’s jeans his fingers linger for a moment caressing Dean’s hips, and Cas smiles against Dean’s mouth when he hears the hunter’s breath hitch. Dean opens his mouth wider to say something, but Cas gives him a look and he decides against it.

Dean likes the way Cas is in charge – it’s not something he would experience normally, and if he’s honest with himself, it had only ever happen to him one other time. He wonders if Cas will make him wear panties like Rhonda did, and shivers with delight at the thought.

Cas breaks off the kiss finally, and sits back on his knees between Dean’s legs. He lets his eyes roam over Dean’s bare torso, knowing that this will frustrate him more than anything else… He is proved right when Dean links his ankles behind Cas’s back, trying to pull him forwards.

“You really _do_ need me, don’t you?” Cas asks, and smiles down at the bulge before him. “But no rush. _I’m_ the higher power in the room.” Cas grins wickedly at Dean, whose green eyes are dark with want.

The angel slowly leans forward and begins to undo the button and zip on Dean’s jeans so that the material of Dean’s boxers is exposed. He stops there however, and instead slides himself off the end of the bed to slowly unlace and remove Dean’s boots and socks, then removes his own shoes and arranges both pairs at the foot of Dean’s bed.

Dean lets out a groan of impatience which prompts Castiel to return to his face.

“You’re lucky I don’t consider other noises speaking,” He says quietly against Dean’s ear, worrying the lobe between his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. “I might have had to punish you for disobeying me…”

Cas can hear Dean breathing hard, and moves his lips down Dean’s jawline, brushing his cheek against the short stubble there. Dean starts whimpering quietly so Cas presses his lips against Dean’s to hush him, and Dean pushes his tongue into Cas’s mouth, exploring the ceramic of his teeth and the rough of his tongue.

Cas takes this opportunity to start pushing Dean’s jeans and boxers down, and he can feel Dean’s approval hard against his pelvis. Cas has to break the kiss in order to pull the material down Dean’s thighs, but Dean sits up and rejoins their lips while Cas does it, and then kicks the clothes free of his ankles himself.

Their foreheads rest together as Dean unbuckles Cas’s belt and slides down the zip on his slacks, then takes the elastic top of his underwear and drags them down.

The buzzing in his vessel’s abdomen intensifies, and Cas can feel his grace within him pushing against his skin, urging to seep out and wrap around Dean, to fold him in close and let him feel how _right_ it is.

Cas is impatient and wills his pants and underwear off him fully, not wanting to waste time that he could be spending mapping Dean’s body.

He lets out a small sigh that they are both naked and kisses Dean slowly, letting his hands explore the hunter’s back, his scarred arms and his thighs. Cas likes Dean’s thighs very much: they are ever so slightly bowed, but muscled and the skin there is mostly untouched by scars from old wounds, so they are smooth under his hands.

“Cas…” Dean sighs, leaning forwards and resting his head on Cas’s shoulder, prompting Cas to kiss the back of his neck and nuzzle his hair.

“You spoke.” He says against the top of Dean’s head, enjoying the sensation of feeling Dean’s shiver throughout his whole body. “You’re lucky,” Cas says as he gently puts Dean down against the pillows and takes his place next to him. “I need a teacher for this… I think you’ll do just fine.”

Dean’s eyes light up at this, and he eagerly takes Cas’s mouth against his own. “Does this mean I’m allowed to talk?” He asks, pulling away, and this time it is Cas that whines quietly. He didn’t know it was possible to ache for one person this much.

Cas chuckles quietly at Dean’s question, a sound that resonates deep in his chest. “Clever boy. Yes, you may speak.”

Dean’s grin seems to light a fire under Cas’s skin, and he arches his back up towards Dean who responds by licking a path from his navel down to the top of his pelvis. Cas gasps as Dean moves lower and touches his tongue to his erection. Dean mouths against it, and flicks his tongue out over the tip, tasting the bead of precome. He pauses in his pursuit and looks up at Cas with his hands fisted in the sheets, the muscles in his neck standing out like cables, and his hair mussed from Dean’s own hands.

“Dean,” Cas manages barely more than a whisper.

Dean gently shushes Cas, licks his palm and raises himself up to the level of Cas’s face while wrapping one hand around the angel’s cock.

Castiel can’t remember a time in all his years when he has felt like this, or ever being able to _feel_ so acutely. Dean’s hand is slick on his shaft, his movements slow and rhythmic, so unlike Cas’s heartbeat, erratic and fluttering against his ribcage. He lets out a small whimper as Dean takes a nipple into his mouth, tracing the aureole with his tongue and biting gently, teasing and pulling, still moving his hand up and down the length of Cas’s dick. As Dean relocates his mouth to the other nipple, Cas feels something else between his legs and opens his eyes, not realizing he had closed them. Cas unconsciously rolls his hips up into Dean’s hand when he sees that it was the hunter’s dick he felt against his own, then does it again when Dean’s mouth stutters against his chest for a moment.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean’s voice is tight, and he has them both in his hand now, moving faster as Cas continues to buck up into him, feeling them slide against each other.

Cas makes a conscious effort to keep his eyes open to observe Dean, one hand on Dean’s ass and the other between his shoulder blades. Dean’s skin is flushed and to Cas, there is no better sight. He looks positively sinful, lips parted a little and his green eyes bright with lust.

Dean pumps his hand faster, losing rhythm as he feels Cas tighten and coil beneath him.

“ _Fuck_ \- Dean, I- I’m going to-“ Cas gasps, not sure of exactly what it is that he’s going to do.

“Let go, Cas.” Dean urges and kisses him fiercely, letting Cas taste himself on his lips as he comes over Dean’s fist.

Dean watches Cas ride his orgasm out, watches the muscles in his neck clenching sporadically and his head pressed back into the pillow, chest heaving. It takes only a few more strokes and Dean releases too, both of them shaking and coated in come.

Dean collapses onto Cas, not worried about suffocating him because Hell, you could probably drop an anvil on the guy and he wouldn’t twitch.

“You swore,” Dean says next to his ear, and Cas turns his head to catch Dean’s lips briefly.

“I think it was rather called for,” He responds, hooking a leg behind Dean’s knee to keep them pressed together as he rolls Dean off onto the bed beside him.

“You might be the higher power, but you ain’t the most capable in the room.” Dean chuckles quietly, and thumbs one of Cas’s abused nipples gently.

“No, but I have you for that.”

They lapse into silence, but by Dean’s breathing Cas can tell that he’s still awake.

“Where are your wings, Cas?” He asks after a short time, sounding tired.

“They are always with me, Dean, but on a metaphysical plane.”

“Yeah, I know that, but where are they now? In relation to us, I mean.”

Cas doesn’t really think about his wings too much, they are always with him, but he just doesn’t register their presence as one he has to acknowledge. Cas pauses for a moment, then pulls Dean closer so that his head is resting on his pectorals and their legs are twined together.

“They’re around you.”

Dean’s chin lifts, and Cas can see his eyes widen.

“Really?”

“Where else would I put them, but around the one I need the most?” Cas’s voice is quiet, but Dean’s eyes soften a little.

“I want to touch them.” He announces, looking resolute even if exhausted.

“They aren’t on any plane that you can touch, Dean.” Cas rubs his cheek against the top of Dean’s head in an almost consoling gesture.

“I want to try anyway. Where are they, in the room?”

“Give me your hand,” Castiel instructs and Dean obliges, letting the angel take hold of his wrist. “Spread your fingers and flatten your palm.”

Dean does as he is told, Cas’s fingers guiding his own into what appears to be empty space. Cas’s hand pauses before moving Dean’s arm forward another few centimetres and letting him go.

“You’re as close to touching them as you can be, Dean.” Cas murmurs, watching Dean’s face for his reaction. His brow creases into a small frown, but there is still awe in his eyes. His frown deepens, and Cas starts a little.

“Dean! You- can you feel that?” He asks in amazement, feeling Dean’s head nod on his chest. “You’re concentrating very hard… That’s never happened before.”

Dean can’t help but smile as he begins to feel something beneath the pads of his fingertips. He strokes them down a little, feeling the soft feathers but still unable to see them. He spreads his hand wider, running it horizontally along where he reasons the rest of Cas’s wing should be, and is rewarded by feeling Cas’s chest shake a little under his head.

“I can feel your hand.” Cas murmurs, placing his free hand on Dean’s waist as the hunter continues to caress the invisible limb. “This… this shouldn’t be possible. You are concentrating so hard on my wing that… you’re partially perceiving it.”

Dean doesn’t speak, but finds the top edge of Cas’s wing and runs his palm along it until he reaches the tip of the end feather and is out of wing to feel. He places his hand back on Castiel’s chest, feeling him breathe in.

“I like your wings… they’re soft.” He mumbles into the skin there.

“I wish you could see them. Sleep now, you’re tired.” Cas runs the fingers of his hand on Dean’s waist in a soothing arc, listening to his breathing steady out.

“But you don’t sleep… I wanna stay with you.” He protests weakly.

“I’ll watch over you. I’m always with you, Dean.” Cas whispers, his voice a low rumble in Dean’s ear. He covers Dean’s hand on his chest with his own, and still reeling from Dean’s touch on his wings, brushes the tip of one across his cheek and brow.

Cas smiles as Dean huffs a little, but sleeps on, safe in the double embrace of his angel’s arms and wings.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions or ideas etc you want me to see go visit me at thewifeofloki.tumblr.com


End file.
